


Five minutes.

by worth_the_risk



Series: Counting. [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Angst, Golly, I say really an awful lot, Introspective Greg Lestrade, Miscarriage, Molstrade, STOP TAGGING RISK, again I really just hate Molstrade as a pairing name I'd like to really make that known, the silver fox thinks about his silver foxiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:23:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worth_the_risk/pseuds/worth_the_risk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that he was happy, it's that he was <i>ecstatic.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Five minutes.

"We're gonna be late, Moll! The reservations are for seven thirty."

"Five minutes! I just need five minutes, love." 

He eyed his watch impatiently and checked his tie in the black-framed mirror just inside Molly's front door. Straightening the navy fabric, he considered himself absent-mindedly. No use fretting over the lack of pigment in his hair anymore; according to Molly, it was attractive anyway. The bags under his eyes had decreased in the same manner as the open folders on his desk when Sherlock had returned: exponentially. He pressed his thumb and index finger to his forehead and pulled the skin smooth, eliminating the wrinkles there before sighing and letting his hand fall. His smile lines had only deepened for the last five weeks; ever since Molly had told him that they were expecting there'd been an entirely fresh spring in his step. At the thought, he watched a small grin spread across his lips. It's not that he was happy, it's that he was _ecstatic._

"Alright, I'm almost ready, promise, sorry!" She came tripping out from the bathroom, one hand clipping an earring, the other helping ease her foot's way into a completely sensible black heel. She smiled sheepishly and stepped into the other shoe, crossing to him and pecking his lips. "You look handsome, as usual." She blushed slightly, ever the awkward compliment giver. As he let his eyes follow the gentle wave of her carefully arranged hair down to her softly curving figure, her blush deepened. 

"You're beautiful," he said simply, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her. She smiled against his lips and gingerly touched his cheek with her fingertips. 

"Don't want to be late," she whispered, tucking her chin and raising her eyebrows. He turned to grab her coat for her and, when he turned back holding it open, she was looking at her stomach confusedly, hand hovering over the velvet of her deep purple dress. "Ow?" 

"What's wrong?" His stomach somersaulted heavily as he realized what her posture and expression indicated. 

"I don't.. _ow._ I don't feel well all of a sudden." She looked up, panicked. "Greg, maybe we shouldn't;" she paused and gritted her teeth, hand finally cupping the space below her bellybutton. "Please take me to the hospital." Her breathing fluttered and sped up violently. 

"Calm down. In your coat, hurry." He held it up for her, delicately tucking her arms into it. He jammed his hands through his own coat sleeves and grabbed his keys and mobile, wrapping a careful but firm arm under her arms and pulling her out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> It's a little happier! For a little while! This is going to be a really messy timeline, and I apologise for that.


End file.
